Each Time We Love

by Shirlee Busbee

  Staggered by the sudden plunge from the drugging world of erotic discovery to the present, Savanna stared up at him dumbly, grasping frantically at the thoughts and sensations that whipped through her brain and her body. But she hadn't survived by being slow-witted, and despite her stunned condition, she nodded immediately.

  His eyes softened, and then he was looking beyond her and she was freed from the mesmerizing power of that hard blue gaze. Astonishing herself, she stood docilely, her head almost cradled against his shoulder as they waited tensely.

  The minutes passed and still Adam could detect no sign of what had disturbed the horse. Suddenly there was a rustle to their left, and a smile swept across his face as a small black-and-white creature bustled out of the brush, avoided them by less than six feet and continued on its way.

  Together they watched as the skunk waddled away, and Savanna found herself grateful for the animal's timely interruption—the skunk's arrival had shattered the amorous intentions of her captor. The creature had hardly disappeared before Adam removed his hand from her mouth and said in clipped tones, "We'd better get some sleep for what is left of the night—I intend for us to be gone from here by first light."

  "Gone where?" Savanna asked sweetly. "Nacogdoches?"

  Adam shot her a dark look. "None of your business," he growled. "And I think I should warn you—I'm bone-tired and not in a mood to be baited."

  A tiny ray of hope sprang into her breast. If he slept soundly enough...

  Almost as if he had read her thoughts, he smiled thinly and drawled, "Forget it, sweetheart. You're not getting free of me until I'm damn good and ready to let you go."

  "And while you're asleep, how precisely do you intend to make certain that I don't, um, just slip away?" she asked, her eyes wide and guiless.

  Adam didn't reply, but walked over to his horse and yanked out the slave-shackles, oblivious of Savanna's indignant gaze. Before she comprehended his actions, her ankle was shackled to his. Smiling with what Savanna could only feel was fiendish glee, Adam waved the iron key under her nose and then promptly hung it on a tree branch well beyond her reach.

  Ignoring her, he continued to move about, forcing her to follow quickly in his wake if she didn't want her ankle jerked out from under her. Leaving the horses saddled, he fed them some of their precious ration of grain, then passed Savanna a handful of the shelled corn and said, "This will have to do for dinner tonight—we're not advertising our presence by lighting a fire."

  Savanna was so famished that she gratefully accepted the corn without comment. Chewing hungrily on the hard yellow kernels as Adam busied himself with laying out the bedroll, she glanced with great longing at the key which dangled temptingly out of her reach.

  Adam noticed the direction of her gaze and smiled nastily. "Won't do you any good, spitfire. You won't be making a move tonight that I don't know about, so resign yourself—and hope I don't die in my sleep. Otherwise you're going to be out here all by yourself, leg-shackled to a corpse."

  She glared at him and snapped, "I find the idea of your being a corpse very appealing."

  He snorted and walked away, the shackle that bound them together jerking Savanna after him. Stumbling behind him, she cursed viciously, considering all manner of ugly fates for him. He continued to move about, double-checking the horses and the gear and ignoring Savanna's fulminating presence behind him. Once he was satisfied that everything was in order, he ambled back to the bedroll.

  It was infuriating and humiliating for Savanna to be dragged along behind him, to be ignored and treated like a dog on a chain, and her temper finally got the better of her—again. Staring bullets into his broad back as he stood in front of her, she bent down and grabbed the chain that united them and gave it a savage tug, yanking his ankle out from under him.

  With a startled oath, he fell into the bedroll face-first. Savannah's moment of triumph was short-lived, however; swift as a cat, he spun over and, from his supine position, stared consideringly up at her. A smile she didn't like crossed his mouth, and a second later, the side of his foot hit her knee and knocked her down.

  To her embarrassment and fury, she fell on top of him, and there were several undignified moments in which she struggled to put as much distance between his hard, muscled length and herself. Eventually, she was lying on the bedroll beside him, and her fury only mounted when she realized that his chest was rumbling with laughter as he lay beside her.

  "You're a despicable, murdering gringo bastard, Jason Savage!" she spat wrathfully.

  His laughter vanished and, to her bewilderment, he loomed up over her, his features dark and dangerous as he snarled softly, "Don't call me that."

  "Why? Don't you like the sound of your own name—black though it may be?" she taunted.

  Adam was angry enough to tell her the truth, but realizing the danger, he exerted control over his temper and threw himself back down beside her. "Adam," he muttered. "Call me Adam—most people do."

  Savanna frowned. "Is that your full name—Jason Adam Savage?"

  "Yeah," he replied coolly. "But all you need to remember is that I answer only to Adam."

  Chapter 8

  Uneasily Savanna mulled over his words, puzzled by his angry reaction. Why had he been so adamant about what she'd called him? And it hadn't been the ugly epithets she had hurled at him that had provoked his outburst, but the fact that she had called him Jason Savage.... Was he ashamed of his name?

  Lying stiffly beside him on the bedroll, she waited in great trepidation for his next move. To her astonishment, he fell asleep almost immediately. His doing so only added to the puzzle and she continued to think about his odd behavior until exhaustion claimed her. Yawning hugely, she decided sleepily, her eyes closing, that if he wanted to be called Adam, it was fine with her—but it didn't change the fact that he was still a murdering scoundrel.

  It seemed that she had barely shut her eyes and slept for only a few minutes before 'Adam' was shaking her awake again. Sleepily she blinked at him, hardly able to discern his features in the shadowy light."Time to get up, sleeping beauty—we're going to be leaving soon," he said, before moving away.

  It was still dark, dawn still several minutes away, but it seemed that Adam wanted to be riding before first light. Savanna sat up quickly, rubbing her eyes with a grubby fist. She glanced around, surprised to discover that the shackles that had chained her to him all night were already gone, the key no longer hanging so temptingly just out of her reach. Silently she watched her captor in the dawn gloom as, ignoring her, he fed the horses with swift, economical movements.

  Grimacing wryly, Adam passed her a handful of the corn and commented, "It'll fill our stomachs until I can find something better—which, hopefully, won't be too many hours from now."

  Savanna shrugged and ate her corn, too tired and hungry to really put her heart into an argument. For just a minute she let herself dream of hot, fragrant coffee, warm, tender biscuits dripping with butter and crisp bacon... oh, and a bath, she added blissfully, since it was only a dream, and a bed—a featherbed with clean white sheets....

  Sighing, she glumly swallowed the rest of her corn and stood up and stretched. She ached in every muscle; her gown and her body were filthy, and as for her hair—well, it was so tangled that she'd probably have to cut it all off to ever get it unsnarled. This morning there wasn't even the luxury of cold stream water to splash in her face to wash her arms and neck. Savanna decided that if she ever got home again she'd spend at least four hours of every day sitting in a tub of hot, soapy water. Her mouth twisted; it would no doubt take a month of such a regime to wash away the weeks of dirt that she had accumulated thus far. And as for the plain brown gown she wore... burning was too kind a fate for it.

  Thoroughly miserable, her stomach growling in complaint about the meager breakfast it had been offered, she stooped over and rolled up the bedding. She handed it to Adam and he tied it to the back of the saddle.

  He flashed a glance around to make certa
in nothing was forgotten and then turned back to Savanna. She appeared as disreputable as he felt and it occurred to him that if she could arouse him now, looking as she did, Lord help him if he ever saw her clean and gowned properly.

  Scowling at his thoughts, he roughly ordered her into the saddle and again tied her hands to the horn. There were no words between them, Savanna watching him stoically, Adam working silently, ignoring her. Swiftly he mounted his own horse and with the reins of her horse held in his hand, he kicked his weary animal forward.

  Adam had no clear idea where he was headed—he only knew that he had to keep moving and that his familiar haunts were closed to him for now. He knew they needed better horses, food and clothing and more weapons and ammunition than they possessed at the moment—if they were to survive very long in the vast wilderness of Texas.

  They plodded steadily westward. Beyond knowing that he had to lure Micajah away from Jason's haunts before heading back to Natchez, Adam was uncertain of his destination as he grappled with the pressing needs of food and supplies. The horses they rode had been poor specimens at the beginning of their journey, and by now they were sorry nags indeed. He doubted that he could trade the pair of them for one decent animal, and without sound horses, any attempt to elude Micajah and Jeremy was doomed to fail. Adam knew that Micajah had horses and more supplies waiting for him at Nacogdoches, but even as the thought of those commodities crossed Adam's mind, he dismissed it. Too risky, and he had no way of knowing if Micajah, discouraged by the rain, hadn't decided to head to Nacogdoches first and then, with fresh mounts and supplies, try to pick up their trail.

  There hadn't been much conversation between Adam and Savanna, but curiosity finally got the better of her and she asked, "Since we're obviously not going to Nacogdoches, where are we going?"

  "Away from your friends, that's for damn sure."

  Savanna's teeth gritted together and she tried again. "You have to have some destination in mind—where are you taking me?"

  He glanced over his shoulder and, blue eyes dancing with mockery, he drawled, "Well, I'd like to take you to bed...."

  She glared at him, ignoring the funny little leap her pulse gave at his words. Since it was obvious he wasn't going to tell her where he was taking her, she lapsed into sullen silence.

  An hour after dawn the demands of Adam's stomach became too pronounced for him to ignore any longer. Having spied several game trails leading to a narrow stream, he decided to stop long enough to set some snares and see what he could catch—and Micajah could go to hell.

  Just the thought of food set Savanna's mouth watering, and in spite of maintaining an indifferent air, she hoped that Adam was a good hunter. He was. Skillfully fashioning several snares he set them along the game trails. It was early enough in the morning for small game to be moving about, and in a gratifyingly short time, Adam managed to catch a fat turkey and two plump rabbits.

  Animosity momentarily forgotten with the prospect of fresh roasted meat in the offing, Adam and Savanna quickly produced a credible fire and in a brief period managed to demolish the two rabbits. Her stomach full for the first time in what seemed like days, Savanna inelegantly wiped her mouth on her sleeve and glanced consideringly at the dressed turkey carcass lying near the stream bank where Adam had left it.

  Catching the longing expression on her face, Adam laughed not unkindly and said, "Not yet, sweetheart. I'm hoping that before we have to eat that turkey to keep it from spoiling, we'll pass a dwelling where the inhabitants will be willing to trade the fresh meat for something we can use." His mouth twisted. "And Lord knows we can use just about everything."

  The tension between them had lessened some due to their full stomachs and deciding that his prickly captive was in as amiable a mood as he had seen so far, Adam let his curiosity get the better of him. "How did you hook up with Micajah and Jeremy?" he asked.

  Determined to treat his questions as he had hers, Savanna smiled and murmured, "None of your business."

  Adam scowled. "All right," he said reluctantly, "I'll answer any question you ask... but you have to answer one of mine. Fair enough?"

  Savanna nodded and, staring at him, inquired bluntly, "Why did you kill my father?"

  It wasn't the question he had expected and it was the one question for which he had no ready reply. He looked across at her for a long time composing his answer, the answer he suspected that Jason might have given. Very carefully he said, "He died because he deserved to die. He killed my friend, would have killed me, but most of all, because he defiled the person dearest to me."

  "That's a damned dirty lie!" Savanna burst out furiously. "You're just making that up to excuse your actions."

  Adam shook his head and there was something about the set of his features that chilled Savanna. Was it possible? Had her father done those things? Micajah had claimed that Davalos had confessed to killing someone named Nolan... didn't that lend credence to what Adam was saying? She didn't want to believe him, everything within her rebelled against it, but there was the unmistakable ring of truth to his words.

  Unconvinced, but troubled by his revelations, Savanna looked away from his steady blue gaze and muttered, "What about the gold? Is that a lie, too?"

  Adam started to remind her that it was his turn to ask a question, but then he shrugged and admitted, "Two people I trust have confirmed its existence—they have seen it."

  Still grappling with what he had said about Davalos, she drew little comfort from his confirmation of the gold and demanded, "Are you going after it?"

  "I think it's my turn to ask some questions, don't you?" he inquired silkily.

  Savanna grimaced and shrugged her shoulders.

  Taking her actions as an affirmative, Adam queried softly, "What is Micajah to you?"

  If Savanna was surprised by his question, she didn't reveal it, and tired of sparring with him, she answered truthfully. "I've known Micajah Yates since I was a child, and for just about all of that time he's been nothing to me but a dangerous aggravation. I'd like to cut out his guts"—she flashed Adam a dark look—"after I've cut out yours, of course, but unfortunately, I haven't had the chance... yet."

  Ignoring her gibe, Adam frowned. "If there is bad feeling between you, why the hell were you with him? I would have thought he'd be the last person you'd ask to help you find the gold."

  "No, you'd be the last person I'd ask!" Savanna shot back smartly, pleased with her barb.

  Adam looked at her, relishing the thought of putting his hands around that slender neck and... Rising to his feet, he said coldly, "Since you're not going to keep your end of the bargain, I see no reason to waste any more time here. Get on your horse."

  Feeling chastened and a little guilty, Savanna complied without argument. Her subdued state didn't last long, however, and they hadn't ridden far before she began to dwell on his crimes. Hadn't he killed her father and lied about him? Wasn't he one of the most despicable bastards it had been her misfortune to meet, and hadn't he made her his prisoner? She knew the answers to those questions, and the question foremost in her mind right now was how the devil was she going to get away from him?

  Frowning, she stared at Adam's broad back as they rode. If only he would drop his guard for an instant.... Her gaze narrowed. She needed some sort of distraction, something to occupy him while she attempted to escape or made him her prisoner. A smile tinged with more than a little malice curved her mouth. Oh, yes, she would enjoy having Adam as her prisoner.

  He pulled their horses to a halt and her heart leaped with excitement when she saw what had caused his actions. Through a break in the trees in the distance she caught a glimpse of a large clearing with several small buildings clustered around a square log cabin. A half dozen hounds, chickens and a sow with a litter of piglets were scattered out in front of the cabin, and a couple of black children played in the red dirt at the side of the building.

  The hounds had not yet caught their sound or scent and Adam was determined for things to stay that
way, at least until he had stashed Savanna away somewhere safe. Casting a dark look in her direction, he growled, "Not one sound out of you, or it will be the last noise you make for quite some time."

  One look at the expression on his face convinced Savanna of the wisdom of obeying him. She would have been willing to risk his wrath if she'd had the least hope of being rescued, but there was such a desolate air about the clearing that she doubted anyone was there who could help her. There'd be other chances, she reminded herself as Adam took them in the opposite direction from the clearing.

  When he stopped a few minutes later and, after a short, violent tussle with Savanna, left her gagged, her hands bound and her ankle shackled to a stout oak sapling, Savanna wished she had screamed the instant she had spied the clearing. Torn between fury and astonishment, she watched him as he hung the key to the shackles on a small branch high above her head.

  "I'm going to see if I can trade our turkey for something we can use but if something should happen to me and I don't return, you should eventually be able to release your hands and reach the key," Adam explained coolly.

  Savanna glared at him.

  Adam shrugged and walked over to his horse. "At least this way," he continued, "I won't have to worry that I left you to die in the forest." He swung up into the saddle, and glancing down at her from his horse, he said dryly, "Try not to pine for me while I'm gone."

  Savanna's magnificent eyes flashed all sorts of retribution, but the insults she hurled at him were muffled by the gag. Adam grinned. "I know, sweetheart. I'll miss you, too."

  He disappeared into the forest and Savanna continued to glare at the spot where she had last seen him for several more minutes, before it dawned on her that he had truly left her bound and gagged and alone in the forest. Longingly she looked at the key dangling above her head and struggled to free her hands. The rawhide bonds proved unyielding and it seemed impossible that she would ever free herself. She found herself praying desperately for Adam's safe return.